I’m Steve, thirty-four, an IT Trainer from Gloucester. I am engaged to my girlfriend Kerry, who is thirty, and we are planning to get married next summer. We were supposed to get married in May, but that all had to be postponed due to COVID-19. It has been a total nightmare, having to cancel everything and negotiate new dates, cancellation fees, venue bookings, catering, and honeymoon.
We had two weeks leave booked off from work and no honeymoon, so decided we would cancel our leave in May, and then take it once lockdown was eased. We decided to spend one week away together, and then do our own separate things for the second week. The first week we managed to go camping in Cornwall in July. Kerry took her second week off and went to stay with her parents who live in Newcastle. She hadn’t seen them since February due to the travel restrictions and social distancing lockdown rules.
I decided to go on a short walking holiday to the Brecon Beacons in Wales in the second week of August. I had found a lovely farmhouse bed and breakfast to stay in for four nights, Wednesday to Sunday. I arrived on the Wednesday evening, after driving along a narrow single track lane with gates and fields on either side, which eventually ended in a small, stone wall enclosed parking area in front of the house, which had obviously at one time been part of the farmyard. The whole look and ambience of the place was one of age and tranquillity. The house itself was a large and imposing stone property, which I discovered later dated back to the 1600’s. It was laid out in an E shaped design, but without the middle bit. Instead, between the two wings and either end of the house was a garden with a fish pond and fountain in the middle, surrounded by lawns and flower beds.
I unpacked the car and walked up to the large, oak door. There was an old, iron bell handle hanging to one side of the door. I pulled it down a couple of times, and somewhere deep within the house I heard the sound of a bell ringing for attention. Dogs began barking, and I heard a woman’s voice telling them to be quiet. There was a scampering of paws on a stone floor and the door opened. A large, cheerful-looking lady with greying hair and dark brown eyes beamed at me, accompanied by two lovely black Labradors, tails wagging.
“Hello. I’m Suzanne,” she announced, and welcomed me in.
We had a chat, and she then took me to my room, which was a large double room, with an en-suite bathroom off it, in one wing of the large house. Both rooms had large sash windows, from the ceiling down to knee level, overlooking the garden and fishpond below, facing across to the other wing of the house at the opposite side of the garden. Suzanne explained that there were 8 bedrooms in the house, but due to Covid 19 it had been a very quiet year, and that there was only one other family staying that weekend.
That evening I found a quiet country pub and had a meal and returned back to the farmhouse about 10pm. I noticed another car parked in the farmyard next to mine, which I assumed belonged to the other guests.
Thursday dawned, and I woke at 7am, looking forward to a day walking in the mountains. I got up and went into my en-suite bathroom for a shower. It was a bright clear day outside, with the early morning sun streaming in through the large window in my bathroom. I had a shower, and then stood in the middle of the bathroom drying myself with the large soft white towel, paying particular attention to drying my shaved cock and balls. It had been Kerry’s idea for me to shave my pubic hair off. Not long after we had started going out together in our mid-twenties, I had discovered (to my delight) that she had a completely shaved pussy. She asked me if I’d ever consider shaving my pubic hair off, and I wasn’t that keen initially. However, she eventually persuaded me to try it, and to my surprise I found that I liked the look and feel of being completely smooth down there, so I have been ever since. Kerry had laser treatment in her late twenties, and now has a totally hairless pussy, so no longer needs to shave.
It was at that moment, as I was stood drying my shaved private parts, that I glanced out of the window. To my surprise and shock, looking through the window at me from one of the bedrooms in the opposite wing of the house was a young girl, with long blonde hair and wearing what appeared to be a pink vest top and white panties. She was stood by the large sash window, meaning I could see almost all of her, except below her knees. From the distance between both wings of the house, it was difficult to tell how old the girl was, but I guessed probably sixteen to eighteen years of age, judging from the outline of her slender body.
For a few seconds I could only stare back in surprise, as the girl showed no signs of movement but simply gazed across the garden at me. I had no idea how long she had been watching me, but it gradually dawned on me that she had probably already seen my nakedness, as I had stepped in and out of the shower and stood by the window drying myself. I felt my cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, but at the same time realised that my thick, eight-inch penis had begun to throb and start to push against the towel I was holding in front of me, as it became aroused.
I noticed the girl was now smiling at me, and then, before I could react, she stepped away from the window and was gone. I stood for a moment staring at the empty window, still a bit dazed and now wondering if she had really been there, or had I imagined her. Did this four-hundred-year-old farmhouse have a ghost? I finished drying myself, then returned to my bedroom and got dressed, still thinking about the mysterious face at the window and wondering who she was – and how much she had seen!
Half an hour later I made my way downstairs to find the breakfast room. The smell of a frying bacon wafted up on the air from the kitchen, and I heard voices chatting somewhere in the house. I wandered along a stone-paved hallway, past a couple of closed doors, up some steps and round a corner. The voices became clearer, and I came to some French doors opening into a large, bright, airy conservatory in which were several tables and chairs. Suzanne was stood beside a table for four, laid out for breakfast, at which sat a middle-aged couple, and a stunningly pretty, blonde teenage girl.
It was the girl in the window! I was stopped in my tracks, as Suzanne turned to greet me.
“Good Morning, Steve. Did you sleep well?”
Slightly unnerved at seeing the girl again, I stumbled over my reply.
“Oh…er…yes…er…thankyou Suzanne. Yes…er…very well,” I muttered. As I spoke, the girl looked at me, and I noticed a faint smile cross her full, red lips. Large, startlingly blue eyes gazed at me from beneath long dark eyelashes. Without any obvious makeup, her complexion was clear, almost translucent, and her cheeks tinged pink, with a cute little nose, slightly upturned at the end. I could hardly take my eyes off her, as my befuddled brain took note of her well rounded, pert breasts underneath a pink and white T-shirt, with blue shorts and long, slender brown legs under the table. I don’t think I’d ever seen a prettier girl in my life. Including my fiancée Kerry!
“Good, I’m so pleased,” Suzanne was saying, somewhere in the fog. “Well, this is James and Louise. They’re staying here this weekend as well,” she added, “So I expect you’ll see them around.”
I somehow managed to peel my eyes away from the girl, and nodded at the middle-aged couple, who were sat at the table, smiling at me. I nodded at them. “Good Morning, I’m Steve,” I managed to say, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Good Morning, Steve,” James said. Louise smiled back.
“And this is their daughter, Katie,” Suzanne added, turning to the young girl. I gazed at her again, as she smiled, this time showing perfect white teeth between those rosebud lips.
“Good Morning, Steve,” she said, giving me a knowing look. Her voice was low and slightly husky, surprisingly deep for a young girl. I felt myself melting inside. She had it all.
